“Are you all right?” She frowns at me.
“Yes. Hungry.” Which is true, but I also don’t want to worry her. “You?”
She grimaces. “You remember how you were afraid of flying because you’d never done it before? Well, I can’t swim. It wasn’t needed on the ship.” She presses her lips together, eyebrows pinching, and stares at the water.
While the pool beneath the waterfall looks deep and turbulent, this is a natural spillway. The current won’t be strong, but the rocks may be slippery. “It’s going to be cold, and you will feel it tugging at your legs. But if you walk on the waterfall side of me, I will keep hold of you. I will not let anything happen to you.”
She nods, staring straight ahead.
“Alisha.” She turns to look at me. “Once we start crossing, we move fast and do not turn back. If we pause or dawdle, we increase our risk of being seen.”
For all we know, people may walk down to use this pool. Though I doubt it. In my tribe, we gathered water and heated it in winter, and in summer we bathed in the river. I think the dirt track is their bathing spot as the flat rocks nearby make good places to lay and dry.
“I understand.” Her lips twist into a bitter smile. “Doesn’t stop the fear, does it?”
“No. But trusting the person in charge helps.” I trusted her ability to fly and keep everyone safe. Will she trust me to do the same?
She doesn’t answer, just kneels to undo her boots. She takes them off and stuffs the socks inside. She copies me as I tie the laces and drape the boots around my neck. “Good thing my socks aren’t smelly.”
“Sometimes it doesn’t matter about the smell; you’re grateful just to have socks.” Mine were made by Bridget out of the purple grass she’s been working with. They appear to be holding up to wearing and washing on a very regular basis as humans like to wash their socks every day.
They are worried about replacing their clothing…but Yva worries about what they are going to do when their washing machines break and clothing must be scrubbed by hand. He thinks they will be less inclined to wash clothes so frequently when they must do it themselves. When they are making their clothes by hand, they will also understand that frequent washing destroys the fibers. There is a line between too much and too little, and at the moment the humans do not understand the difference. They exist the way they did on their home world.
“I would not be hiking through the forest in boots with no socks.”
“You would be surprised what you do when there is no other choice.”
“So you ran out of socks, and then what?”
I grunt and scan the area, reaching out with my kams as far as possible. While there are plenty of heartbeats, I sense no other Honey in range. “I will tell you on the other side.”
“I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to distract me.”
“Is it working?”
“No.” At least she is honest.
I grab her hand, and her heartbeat quickens.
Her fingers squeeze mine. “When you’re ready.”
I give the area of final sweep, visually and with my kam, then lead her to the water’s edge. The rocks press into the soles of my feet, but I ignore the stabs, moving as fast as I dare, aware that her steps are shorter, but not slow enough that fear has a chance to make her freeze.
The cold of the water bites into my ankles and then my calves. Alisha sucks in a breath and curses but doesn’t loosen her grip on my hand. I don’t run, because that leads to slipping. I keep my knees soft and my steps short to keep my weight centered. The river drags at my pants as it creeps higher, then we are halfway across. I resist the urge to pick up my pace and focus only on my next step. Alisha wobbles and bumps into me. I hold still until she has her balance.
“Sorry.”
“You’re okay. Better to hit me than fall in.” When we get back to the colony, we need to teach the humans to swim. While my brothers have taught their mates, everyone, especially the hunters and those leaving the colony on a regular basis, needs to learn, if only enough that they don’t panic and they can float to the nearest riverbank like a small child. “Maybe I should teach you how to swim?”
“The river near the colony is too big and fast for that.”
“Not all of it is. There are small streams, and quiet bends.”
“Uh-huh, I’ll take your word for it.”
I keep the conversation going as now she isn’t thinking about slipping again. “Have you ever been to the river?”
“No, but I’ve flown over it.”
